It doesn't mean a thing to me
by Pilotofmymind
Summary: /Living doesn't mean a thing to him without Sirius./ Sirius/Remus, RP based, AU
1. It doesn't mean  a thing to me

**A/N: An AU in which Remus survived the attack in Hogwarts.**

Summary: Living doesn't mean a thing to him without Sirius. 

It's been two months, and there's a war the Ministry refuses to acknowledge; Harry is stuck in the Muggle world; and he is absolutely miserable.

He spends his days doing as Dumbledore directs him to do, and remembering Sirius-beautiful, perfect Sirius. He remembers the day Sirius found his pensieve; he remembers the accusing way he'd stared at him; he remembers the hurt in Sirius' expressive eyes; he remembers the tears they'd both denied; he remembers Sirius' soft, sweet touches; he remembers everything.

He remembers Sirius' lips as he's leaning into the wall, a man whose name he doesn't remember trying to kiss him; but he turns his face away, exposes his throat (_to a werewolf; you stupid, stupid ma_n), he remembers the promises (_Forever, I'll love you forever_), and he remembers the ways Sirius' hands had seemed to burn him to the core with their soul searing touches; and though he will give himself over, bodily, to other men, and women; never will he give his heart and soul (_or kisses_) to them.

Those he reserves for Sirius (_for all of eternity_).

It's been two months and he hasn't let himself cry; it's been two months and he doesn't remember who he is, who he was; but he remembers Sirius (_and their love)_; he'll always (_eternity_) remember Sirius.

It's been six months, and Nymphadora has suddenly taken an interest in him. He doesn't understand it, and he doesn't intend to try; and though he'd usually just let one pull him down, further, into his self loathing; with touches and whispered words of false comfort, he can only push her away; he could never do that to one he cares about; never would he betray Sirius' trust by hurting his little cousin.

She's very persistent though, and he takes to avoiding her; he's receiving scoldings from other members; mostly Molly, but he doesn't care. They don't; can't; won't understand.

She keeps cornering him, and taking his hand, telling him that he needs to understand how much she loves him, and can't he just see that she could make him happy? (_But he promised Sirius his eternity_). She tries to kiss him, and he finally pulls away, pointedly asking her to leave.

He knows he should feel bad when she starts to cry, but he doesn't. He knows he should comfort her when she continues whispering little words of love; but he can't. He knows he should look at her when she collapses into him sobbing against his chest, and wrapping his jumper around her hands; but he won't.

She's in love with him, she sobs; he remains silent. Can't he try? She begs; he shudders. Will he look at her? She pleads; he can, but he doesn't. Is this about Sirius? Her tone is caught between horror and confusion, and he closes his eyes and pretends he doesn't feel the cool, cool tear sliding down his cheek. He and I weren't a couple, she says reassuringly, and he is disgusted with her now; he pushes her away and begs her to leave, asking what, just what it will take for her to listen to him? Can't she see he's not in the mood to be played with?

She flees his room, scared of the anger he'd displayed (and perhaps a bit afraid of the dangerous beast he hides deep inside; attracted to it too), and he hears her sobs echoing through the empty halls of Grimmauld place, and he falls into his bed, and presses his face into a pillow that still smells of Sirius, and he pretends he's just going to sleep; but all he can do is cry, and cry.

Until he can cry no more; and he feels he is a bit more resigned; his anger will not display it's self to Tonks again; and all will be well.

But it isn't.

It's been a year since Sirius died; and Remus is sure he's died too. He sits in his flat in London, and remembers a time he and Sirius shared a flat; he remembers a night Sirius brought him flowers, and kissed him; he remembers all of the pleasant days, tucked away between the war, that followed; and he remembers a night Sirius went out to see James on Halloween; and never returned.

He remembers Dumbledore knocking on his door and telling him Voldemort had been defeated. By Harry Potter. James, Lily and Peter were dead. He remembers begging, and falling to his knees, his hands over his eyes, for Dumbledore not to tell him Sirius is dead; that Sirius is gone too.

Dumbledore didn't tell him. He'd stroked his hair, and walked him to the couch. Served him tea (in his own flat) and sat silently until his whimpering, choking sobs had subsided. He remembers a tear rolling out of Dumbledore's eye as they sat staring at each other. He remembers the words coming from his mouth before he could stop himself (_He was the spy, wasn't he?_) he remembers Dumbledore's head bowing, a slight jerky nod.

And he'd dissolved into tears again.

It's been a year, and twelve days since Sirius died. They tell him Bill Weasley has been attacked by Fenrir Greyback; he feels as if their stares are accusing. As if they blame him, somehow.

Harry tells him Dumbledore is dead; and Remus sees his life hitting the stone floor of the infirmary and shattering.

And like wolves they are see that he is weak; and Tonks is pushing herself against him, intruding on his sorrow, his despair; his memories; and they're all telling him he's wrong (_Eternity is the past; Sirius is dead; he wouldn't be lying; he needs to let go; Things aren't the way the used to be_). She takes his silence as surrender.

She stays the night with him; but she, unlike Sirius, doesn't wake up when he rolls away; she, unlike Sirius, doesn't hear him sit beside the bed; she, unlike Sirius, doesn't hear his whimpering cries, his choked, and ragged breathing; she, unlike Sirius, is just there, but not _there_ at all.

He's sure he's died.

He'd been sad when he'd learned that Tonks was pregnant. He'd been horrified; what if the baby came out like him? (_What would Sirius think of his betrayal?_)

But Teddy is perfect. Perfect in every way; every hair on his head (no matter the colour), the softness of his skin, the sweet sound of his voice; and for the first time Remus believes he may be happy with Tonks.

But the euphoria passes; and Tonks is just Tonks; and Sirius is still his eternity.

It's almost been two years the day the second war ends (May 2, it would only take one month, sixteen days for it to have been two years), some how he meets them in the fray of it all, and they tell him that Tonks is dead. He doesn't know how to speak for a moment; and then he realizes, though sad this is nothing like the crushing despair that had filled him when he'd seen Sirius die; he tells himself it would hurt more if he'd actually seen Tonks die.

He knows he's lying.

One month, sixteen days later he finds himself face down in his bed, thinking of Tonks, and Sirius; but most of all Teddy, whose cries have just woken him from a very deep sleep, and he yawns as he climbs out of bed, unable to keep hold of a dream that's tearing at his subconscious.

He'll change, and feed Teddy, and then they'll go down to his library together, and he'll read books of dark magic; books of secrets that never should have left Number Twelve Grimmauld place; and he'll search for hope among the heavy pages of the books Sirius never would have approved of him reading; and he'll try to find a spell to hide his despair, and he tries with everything in him not to think of how disappointed Sirius will be in him.

Teddy is turning four, and Harry is there, with Ginny, Ron, Hermione, Molly and Arthur. He's laughing, and Harry's son, such a cute little thing, as Harry himself was, isn't even one, and he's trying to sing with them; and Remus thinks he's happy, but there's something buried inside that's squirming, and he can't quite identify it.

Hermione and he adjourn to the library after cake, and he gives her a stack of books, laughing at her excitement, and after she leaves he turns back toward the shelf, and he thinks he hears a soft whispering, but as he takes a step forward, Teddy tuns into the room, laughing, and he assumes it was his son.

Teddy is eight when he finally admits it; he's still not over Sirius, and he doesn't know how Ginny, and Hermione ever found out about the two of them (his mind goes to his pensieve that brought him and Sirius back together; but he keeps it locked up, scared how Teddy would react should he see it). But he finds himself telling them; Yes, he and I were lovers. But he doesn't tell them that he and Sirius promised each other Forever; they would simply think he meant 'til death do us part'; but forever is forever, and he is a traitor, and a liar.

His heat is in his throat as he speaks to them; and his eyes are watering with his words, but he doesn't cry; and he realizes that this pain isn't ever going to stop (had never gone away, merely been ignored), and he looks to the floor, and the both hug him; and he thinks of Lily as he buries his face in Hermione's hair (and he'll never tell Harry, but he'd have preferred the boy marry Hermione; though he knows Harry couldn't have stopped Hermione from loving Ron. True love, he thinks, is the strongest bewitchment there ever was).

Three years later he's standing on the platform of King's cross, waving at Teddy, and he feels awkward, and so, so very alone. On the way home he almost buys a dog, but changes his mind, realizing not all, or any dogs, are like Padfoot.

When he gets home he goes straight to his room, and drags a trunk out of his closet, he opens it slowly, sitting on the floor beside it, and with trembling fingers pulls one of Sirius' robes from the trunk, and buries his face in the folds, and inhales deeply; it no longer smells of Sirius, but he can remember Sirius' scent so well that he doesn't need the robes.

It has been twelve years since Sirius has died (_been murdered_), and he can remember everything. He hasn't cried since the day Tonks had cornered him after Dumbledore's death; and he doesn't cry now. But he stays where he is, with his face pressed into the robes, and he doesn't move for hours; he moves only when the cramps in his muscles get too painful to ignore, and he rises with a whimper that has nothing to do with the pain in his legs.

He stands with the robes in his hands for several moments before carefully, and slowly hanging them in the closet among his own robes; and it looks so right; so perfect; that the longing for Sirius increases tenfold, and he whimpers.

On impulse he hangs the rest of Sirius' robes in his closet, among his own, and then crawls in bed, and lays down, and lays awake until morning, and gets up, only to lay back down when he realizes Teddy doesn't need him anymore; because Teddy isn't here.

He's alone.

Teddy is fourteen when he finally found the book he'd known would exist; with a spell that seemed to have serious drawbacks to using it; but he didn't care what happened. He would do what ever it took to get Sirius back; he'd always known that.

_(Forever ever after)_.

He preforms the spell (_it takes Love, it says; strong real, true love; it takes blood; it takes magic, wandless magic, magic in it's purest forms; it takes desire; want; need; it takes a cherished item of the other persons (and Remus has only himself to offer, for he knows not what else Sirius treasured); nor cherished; it takes everything in him_) when Teddy is at school. And it doesn't do anything.

He walks away from the casting circle feeling despair deep down into his bones. And then, when he least expects it; taking a glass from the cupboard, a strange sensation washes over him, and he doubles over in pain; screaming in agony as he feels _something_ being torn from him.

It takes him several moments to realize he is losing what little bit of Sirius he had left; and then, and only then, does he realize the implications of the spell.

He gets up and runs to the library, and grabs the book, before heading to his room. He's trembling, and he puts the book in the trunk in the bottom of his closet, and sits in the armchair in the corner. He can't stop shaking; and he's sure, for a moment, that he feels warmth pressing against his neck, a soft nuzzling sensation.

And he closes his eyes.

He won't be alone much longer.

Two years. Teddy is sixteen; and he himself is infinitely older. Older, much older, then when he'd preformed the forbidden spell. And he's sitting in the library, reading a book, thinking about what he and Teddy are going to do in the summer; who they'll see. When there's a sort of pull in him, and he blinks, eyes watering from the surge of electric going through him.

There's a sort of crackle in the air, and he looks up; when he sees Sirius standing there he is sure he's gone mad; or fallen asleep. But he stands anyway, taking a few trembling steps toward Sirius-beautiful; perfect; and naked as the day he was born, Sirius.

The name comes off of his lips like a prayer, and he knows; He _is_ alive.

"_Sirius._"


	2. Means nothing to me

Summary: Remus is a little confused about his... financial situation; _thanks so much Sirius._

He remembers the first time he'd gone to Saint Mungo's after the war; remembers the first time he, himself, it had always been Tonks before, used any of the money Sirius had left him (Have a nice day, _Mister Black_) their sneers, and the way they were addressing him as 'Mister Black' confused him; and he corrected them patiently; _That's_ Lupin, _dear._

He remembers it happening again in Diagon alley; remembers so many wizards, and witches moving out of his way, with simpers, and polite bows, and sneers of 'Mister Black'. One day he'd stopped a particularly angry looking wizard (turned out to be a Malfoy) and asked just what they meant by that.

The explanation is simple, apparently, they all that he and Sirius had bonded (_they had,_ he thought indignantly, _but what did that have to do with anything_?) begrudgingly the Malfoy explained that the wizarding community thought that Sirius was bent (Remus didn't even smile), and that when Sirius had left his family fortune to Remus they'd all thought that Sirius and Remus had married.

Unsure of what to make of that, for as far as he knew two men marrying wasn't exactly legal, Remus noticed he didn't have to think about what to say, his mouth was doing it anyway. Well, the Malfoy explained awkwardly, there are ways of bonding magically, and Sirius being a Black they'd all assumed that he had sealed them together (_For Eternity,_ Remus thought, and apparently said, for the Malfoy nodded vigorously).

They weren't, he explains, a little more loudly then he generally would, bonded. They were, he lies louder then he wants to, just friends. He sees some snickers, and feels angry, but he just walks away, and contemplates what they'd said; was it true?

Was it possible?

If Sirius were there, he tells himself, he could ask him; _To marry me_? His mind prompts, and he scowls, unsure of how to answer himself, but he knows his answer (_Naturally_.), though he won't admit it.

He wonders, after Sirius returns to him, but not _to _him, if he shouldn't give him the Black family fortune back (it's not as if what he and Tonks spent even put a nick in the contents, after all). He doesn't know how to put the question to him though; _Do you want your legacy back?_

Just doesn't feel right. And he's beginning to become a bit uncomfortable in all of this wonderment, and so he decides that he will ask the two people in the world who know just how he feels about Sirius (though only one of them seems to have realized what Sirius' obliviousness has done to him; and Hermione, as smart as she is, is still unable to think of a way to return his magic).

Hermione, and Ginny both tell him he's daft when he brings it up, and Hermione's roll of her eyes, her statement that there can't very well be much left to worry about after sixteen years of Teddy's education, the wedding, the house, and the furnishings (and her favorite place to be in the world; his library), he and Ginny both look sheepishly to the floor, and she scowls, as she asks them what ever is wrong.

When Remus tells her just _how_ much is left in the vault he's sure she's fighting to keep the shock out of her features, and Ginny nods to her, and Hermione exclaims; _My word!_

But still, they say, and he's forced to listen, because some where along the line he'd seemed to make them his consiglieres, that _no_ he should most definitely _not_ return the vault; Sirius is too reckless; though it would be nice, they add quickly, to allow him access, so that he can do things, get things, and not feel trapped; dependent. Remus agrees reluctantly.

He accompanies Hermione to Diagon Alley the next day, and when she runs into Neville he slips away, and goes across town, to a distinctly poorer part of Diagon Alley, he walks with a purposes, and stops at the bottom of a rickety flight of stairs, and stares up into the darkness shrouding the doorway, and he shudders; his life started, and ended here once.

The landlord comes out, confused by his appearance (so old, and tired, and in such run down robes; the he rather refuses to replace just yet) and asks him if he would like to look at the flat, because it's for rent. Remus follows him up the stairs, fairly trembling, and afraid to see what's left of what was once his home. The landlord stands on the stairs while Remus enters the flat shakily, and looks around.

The once tan, and white walls are pastel colours, meant to be happy, and the kitchen is an awful yellow. And he's scared to do it, but he walks into Sirius' old room, and it's so different; so bright and gay, and so very, very someone else. He doesn't care for what's been done to his own room either (pink, and white?), and when he reaches the door, slightly blanched, and still trembling he signs the lease with a flourish, and the landlord looks shocked, he just smiles.

He'll have it painted; he'll find furniture the likes of their old furniture, and someday, when Sirius remembers _him_; remembers _them_; then he'll bring him here, and they can both laugh about how far they've come. He pays six months rent in advance, and it feels so strange to be able to do that, but he just smiles, and finds his way back to Hermione.

And after that; he finds his way back to Sirius (_home_).


	3. Oh, I need this

Summary: He's never felt so alone; so abandoned; and so very sorry. He'd never expected to regret this; but then, he'd never expected to get to the point in his life where he would feel so desperate

The first week after Sirius had returned to him, Remus had found his lack of affection quite agonizing, and when Sirius had fallen asleep that night he'd gone upstairs, and pulled the thick black book from the trunk in the bottom of his closet, the faded black words imprinted on the leather cover were in Runes, and barely legible from the age of the book.

With trembling hands he placed it on the small table beside his armchair in the corner, and trembling fingers turned old heavy pages, with frayed edges. He felt like he'd lost the ability to breathe, and he had to concentrate on the words before him, which were becoming steadily more blurred as the moments went on-

(_A love as true as winters first day; as bright as the stars in the sky; a love that provides as much hurt as it does happiness; a love that causes your heart to beat; and takes your breath away_)

-and he didn't know why he had done it; what had he been thinking? This had been a mistake, and he was, he was-... crying. A tear hit the page of the book, but rather then leave a wet blotch on the paper, it... was absorbed? Blinking back the tears he tried, desperately to continue reading-

(_Though it may seem an easy enough task, one must ask himself (or herself?) if he is indeed willing to have his most beloved stand at his side once again; at the cost of never again being able to feel those soft, and fleeting touches of love?_)

-but he was sobbing, and shaking terribly, and his knees were weak, and he bowed his head, and hit his knees, a strange keening whine climbing up the back of his throat; and he just wanted it to end. He just wanted to go back in time and undo his mistake; why had he been such a fool? Why had he, why had he-

(_I implore thee to rethink your actions afore you spill blood; afore you say these words, that will bring only darkness to your home; is it worth having them back, if they are not truly there?_)

-been such an ignorant, selfish fool? How could he have not seen the problems that would come with this spell? How could he have not seen that this was a mistake? Why, why, why? He couldn't answer himself, and he knew there was no one here to answer him because, because-

(_No words can describe the pain I felt when my love did not look at me as he once had; this was my greatest creation, but of course it was my worst idea_)

-he was so cruel. Hadn't he known the implications? Hadn't he read them, over and over again? But he had been sure, so, so very sure that he and Sirius had a love so strong that they would be able to feel through the darkness, of even death, toward each other, until they were once again reunited. And Sirius would love him, as he had before, and things would be good, so very good, but-

(_Many have looked down upon the love I share with him; none of them have been able to understand the bond we hold; none of them have been able to feel the pain I feel when he walks away; none of them have been able to experience the joy I've experienced with him; none of them understand our love)_

-he had been wrong! Sirius, and he, were not, are not... But weren't they? Hadn't he felt as if he'd died the day Sirius had passed through the veil? Hadn't he loved Sirius to the point of breaking? Hadn't he longed to hold the other so intensely that he'd risked Azkaban to have him back again? Hadn't he thought that Sirius, Sirius-

(_none could understand what it was that connected us; often I have revived ridicule for trying, in vain they thought, to find a way to bring him back to me again. They do not understand that I will stop at nothing to bring my love back to me again. They claim that even if I should be able to bring him back; never again will he remember the love we shared; never again will he hold me in his arms and whisper words of endearment to me_)

-loved him? Truly, and completely? Hadn't Sirius promised him forever? Remus let out a strangled noise as he shifted back onto the floor, sitting in front of the chair, and weeping stormily into his hands, leaning against the chair, and shuddering. Hadn't they sworn to each other? Hadn't they-

(_They claim that my genius can only extend so far. They tell me that though this may bring him back, it will never bring back the love I must offer as a sacrifice; they tell me he didn't love me strongly enough; they tell me not to waste my time; my life, for surely he will duel again, and surely he will die again; but if he must, then so too shall I. For never again will I be without my love_)

-given each other their eternities? Hadn't they held each other, and with trembling hands burned their love into each others souls? Hadn't that beautiful white hot feeling of love permanently marked the both of them? Wasn't Sirius his? Truly-

(_I will preform this spell, with the hopes of some day soon holding him in my arms again. For I am sure; that over all; our love will burn bright, and white; pure and perfect; and he will always love me._

_Sadalsud Black I, May 20th 1919)_

-and completely?

Letting out a shuddering sob Remus dragged his hands away from his face, knowing he needed to hide this book, because he couldn't have it out, he couldn't. He wouldn't risk anyone realizing he'd done such a thing. As he climbed shakily to his feet he was a bit startled to see a picture blinking back up at him.

An aristocratic man, with black hair, and pale skin, he couldn't tell the colour of his eyes, but as he wiped his own eyes, and studied the picture he realized that this picture was of a Black. They were the only people he'd ever seen who managed to look haughty, pitying, and noble all at the same time. But the other man in the picture, fairer in colouring, obviously light hair (perhaps blond) wasn't a wizard he recognized.

Slowly lifting the picture he studied it for several moments before looking at the book, wondering where the picture had come from, and saw a small letter sitting there, lifting it, he carefully turned the picture over and read the date (_May 1__st__, 1920_), and gave a slight start. Reading the letter carefully, several times, he looked down into the picture again; they were giving each other rather doe eyed looks (had he and Sirius ever done that? It made him feel a tad uncomfortable, knowing those two men would have been anywhere but posing properly for a picture... likely anywhere was their bedroom).

The book forgotten he sat in the chair and just stared at the letter; it seemed to be warning him against using the spell, for the pain and suffering it would bring him; but at the same time it told him to use the spell if he was sure his love was true.

Turning the picture over again he caught sight of some small, faded hand writing in the upper corner of the picture; '_He needed me, as much as I needed him. And surely your beloved needs you as much as you need them. _

_True love, in its purest form, will lead you on._'

**A/N: Yeah. You read that right. **

**If flames, I will roast marshmellows :D **


End file.
